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U UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 







A CENTURY of ROUNDELS 



MR. SWINBURNE'S WORKS, 

Published by R. Worthington. 



Poems and Ballads, 

A Study of Shakespeare, - 

Songs of the Spring-Tide, 

Mary Stuart (a Tragedy), - 

Tristram of Lyonese and Other Poems, 

A Century of Roundels and Other Poems, 



$i 75 
i 75 
i 75 
i 75 
i 75 
i 75 



CENTURY of ROUNDELS 



AND OTHER POEMS 



y 



ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE 



S* 







NEW YORK 
R. WORTHINGTON, 770 BROADWAY 

1883 



7K SSoi 



? '3 



^ebicafion, 



CHRISTINA G. ROSSETTI 



Songs light as these may sound, though deep and strong 
The heart spake through them, scarce should hope to please 
Ears tuned to strains of loftier thottghts than throng 
Songs light as these. 

Yet grace may set their sometime doubt at ease, 
Nor need their too rash reverence fear to wrong 
The shrine it serves at and the hope it sees. 

For childlike loves and laughters the7ice prolo?ig 
Notes that bid enter, fearless as the breeze, 
Even to the shrine of holiest-hearted song, 
Soups light as these. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE. 

IN HARBOUR I 

THE WAY OF THE WIND ..... 3 

' HAD I WIST ' 4 

RECOLLECTIONS 5 

TIME AND LIFE 8 

A DIALOGUE . . . . . . . IO 

PLUS ULTRA 13 

A DEAD FRIEND 14 

PAST DAYS .... . . . . 21 

AUTUMN AND WINTER ..... 24 

THE DEATH OF RICHARD WAGNER . . .28 

TWO PRELUDES : 

LOHENGRIN . . . . . . . 3 1 

TRISTAN UND ISOLDE ..... 32 

THE LUTE AND THE LYRE ^ 

PLUS INTRA 34 



Contents. 

PAGE. 

CHANGE . 35 

A baby's DEATH 36 

ONE OF TWAIN 43 

DEATH AND BIRTH . . . ■ . . 45 

BIRTH AND DEATH 46 

BENEDICTION 47 

fTUDE REALISTE . 48 

BABYHOOD 5 I 

FIRST FOOTSTEPS 55 

A NINTH BIRTHDAY 56 

NOT A CHILD -59 

TO DORA DORIAN 62 

THE. ROUNDEL . . . . . . .63 

AT SEA ; 64 

WASTED LOVE 65 

BEFORE SUNSET 66 

A SINGING LESSON 67 

FLOWER-PIECES : 

LOVE LIES BLEEDING 68 

LOVE IN A MIST 69 

THREE FACES : 

VENTIMIGLIA 70 

GENOA 71 

VENICE . . . ■ 72 



Contents. 

PAGE. 

EROS 73 

sorrow ....:.... 76 

SLEEP ' 77 

ON AN OLD ROUNDEL 78 

A LANDSCAPE BY COURBET .... 80 

A FLOWER-PIECE BY FANTIN . . . . . 8l 

A NIGHT-PIECE BY MILLET 82 

' MARZO PAZZO ' 83 

DEAD LOVE ........ 84 

DISCORD 85 

CONCORD . . j 86 

MOURNING 87 

APEROTOS EROS . ' 88 

TO CATULLUS ' . 89 

'iNSULARUM OCELLE ' 90 

IN SARK 91 

IN GUERNSEY 92 

ENVOI IOI 

LOVE AND SCORN _ 102 

ON THE MONUMENT ERECTED TO MAZZINI AT 

GENOA T04 



IN HARBOUR. 



Goodnight and goodbye to the life whose signs denote 

us 
As mourners clothed with regret- for the life gone by ; 
To the waters of gloom whence winds of the dayspring 

float us 

Goodnight and goodbye. 

A time is for mourning, a season for grief to sigh ; 
But were we not fools and blind, by day to devote us 
As thralls to the darkness, unseen of the sundawn'seye ? 



We have drunken of Lethe at length, we have eaten of 

lotus ; 
What hurts it us here that sorrows are bom and die ? 
We have said to the dream that caressed and the dread 

that smote us 

Goodnight and goodbye. 



In Harbour. 



ii. 



Outside of the port ye are moored in, lying 
Close from the wind and at ease from the tide, 
What sounds come swelling, what notes fall dying 
Outside ? 

They will not cease, they will not abide : 
Voices of presage in darkness crying 
Pass and return and relapse aside. 

Ye see not, but hear ye not wild wings flying 
To the future that wakes from the past that died ? 
Is grief still sleeping, is joy not sighing 
Outside ? 



THE WAY OF THE WIND. 

The wind's way in the deep sky's hollow 
None may measure, as none can say 
How the heart in her shows the swallow 
The wind's way. 

Hope nor fear can avail to stay 

Waves that whiten on wrecks that wallow, 

Times and seasons that wane and slay. 



Life and love, till the strong night swallow 
Thought and hope and the red last ray, 
Swim the waters of years that follow 
The wind's way. 



'had i wist: 

Had I wist, when life was like a warm wind playing 
Light and loud through sundawn and the dew's bright 

mist, 
How the time should come for hearts to sigh in saying 
< Had I wist '— 

Surely not the roses, laughing as they kissed, 
Not the lovelier laugh of seas in sunshine swaying, 
Should have lured my soul to look thereon and list. 



Now the wind is like a soul cast out and praying 
Vainly, prayers that pierce not ears when hearts resist 
Now mine own soul sighs, adrift as wind and straying, 
1 Had I wist.' 




RECOLLECTIONS, 



Years upon years, as a course of clouds that thicken 
Thronging the ways of the wind that shifts and veers, 
Pass, and the flames of remembered fires requicken 
Years upon years. 

Surely the thought in a man's heart hopes or fears 
Now that forgetfulness needs must here have stricken 
Anguish, and sweetened the sealed-up springs of tears. 



Ah, but the strength cf regrets that strain and sicken, 
Yearning for love that the veil of death endears, 
Slackens not wing for the wings of years that quicken- 
Years upon years. 



Recollections. 



ii. 



Years upon years, and the flame of love's high altar 
Trembles and sinks, and the sense of listening ears 
Heeds not the sound that it heard of love's blithe psaltei 
Years upon years. 

Only the sense of a heart that hearkens hears, 
Louder than dreams that assail and doubts that palter, 
Sorrow that slept and that wakes ere sundawn peers. 

Wakes, that the heart may behold, and yet not falter, 
Faces of children as stars unknown of, spheres 
Seen but of love, that endures though all things alter, 
Years upon years. 



Recollections, 



in. 



Years upon years, as a watch by night that passes, 
Pass, and the light of their eyes is fire that sears 
Slowly the hopes of the fruit that life amasses 
Years upon years. 

Pale as the glimmer of stars on moorland meres 
Lighten the shadows reverberate from the glasses 
Held in their hands as they pass among their peers. 

Lights that are shadows, as ghosts on graveyard grasses, 
Moving on paths that the moon of memory cheers, 
Shew but as mists over cloudy mountain passes 
Years upon years. 




TIME AND LIFE. 



Time, thy name is sorrow, says the stricken 
Heart of life, laid waste with wasting flame 
Ere the change of things and thoughts requicken, 
Time, thy name. 

Girt about with shadow, blind and lame, 

Ghosts of things that smite and thoughts that sicken 

Hunt and hound thee down to death and shame. 



Eyes of hours whose paces halt or quicken 
Read in bloodred lines of loss and blame, 
Writ where cloud and darkness round it thicken, 
Time, thy name. 



Time and Life, 



II. 



Nay, but rest is born of me for healing, 
— So might haply time, with voice represt, 
Speak : is grief the last gift of my dealing ? 
Nay, but rest. 

All the world is wearied, east and west, 

Tired with toil to watch the slow sun wheeling, 

Twelve loud hours of life's laborious quest. 

Eyes forspent with vigil, faint and reeling, 
Find at last my comfort, and are blest, 
Not with rapturous light of life's revealing — 
Nay, but rest. 



A DIALOGUE. 



Death, if thou wilt, fain would I plead with thee : 
Canst thou not spare, of all our hopes have built, 
One shelter where our spirits fain would be, 
Death, if thou wilt ? 

No dome with suns and dews impearled and gilt, 
Imperial : but some roof of wildwood tree, 
Too mean for sceptre's heft or swordblade's hilt. 

Some low sweet roof where love might live, set free 
From change and fear and dreams of grief or guilt ; 
Canst thou not leave life even thus much to see, 
Death, if thou wilt ? 



10 



A Dialogue. 



ii. 



Man, what art thou to speak and plead with me ? 
What knowest thou of my workings, where and how 
What things I fashion ? Nay, behold and see, 
Man, what art thou ? 

Thy fruits of life, and blossoms of thy bough, 
What are they but my seedlings ? Earth and sea 
Bear nought but when I breathe on it must bow. 

Bow thou too down before me : though thou be 
Great, all the pride shall fade from off thy brow, 
When Time and strong Oblivion ask of thee, 
Man, what art thou ? 



ir 



A Dialogue. 



in. 



Death, if thou be or be not, as was said, 
Immortal ; if thou make us nought, or we 
Survive : thy power is made but of our dread, 
Death, if thou be. 

Thy might is made out of our fear of thee : 

Who fears thee not, hath plucked from off thine head 

The crown of cloud that darkens earth and sea. 

Earth, sea, and sky, as rain or vapour shed, 
Shall vanish ; all the shows of them shall flee : 
Then shall we know full surely, quick or dead, 
Death, if thou be. 



12 



PLUS ULTRA. 

Far beyond the sunrise and the sunset rises 
Heaven, with worlds on worlds that lighten and respond : 
Thought can see not thence the goal of hope's surmises 
Far beyond. 

Night and day have made an everlasting bond 
Each with each to hide in yet more deep disguises 
Truth, till souls of men that thirst for truth despond. 

All that man in pride of spirit slights or prizes, 
All the dreams that make him fearful, fain, or fond, 
Fade at forethought's touch of life's unknown surprises 
Far beyond. 



13 



A DEAD FRIEND. 



Gone, gentle heart and true, 
Friend of hopes foregone, 

Hopes and hopeful days with you 
Gone ? 

Days of old that shone 
Saw what none shall see anew, 
When we gazed thereon. 

Soul as clear as sunlit dew, 

Why so soon pass on, 
Forth from all we loved and knew 

Gone ? 



14 



A Dead Friend. 



Friend of many a season fled, 

What may sorrow send 
Toward thee now from lips that said 

' Friend ' ? 

Sighs and songs to blend 
Praise with pain uncomforted 
Though the praise ascend ? 

Darkness hides no dearer head : 
Why should darkness end 

Day so soon, O dear and dead 
Friend ? 



IS 



A Dead Friend. 



in. 



Dear in death, thou hast thy part 

Yet in life, to cheer 
Hearts that held thy gentle heart 

Dear. 

Time and chance may sear 
Hope with grief, and death may part 
Hand from hand's clasp here : 

Memory, blind with tears that start, 

Sees through every tear 
All that made thee, as thou art, 

Dear. 



.16 



A Dead Friend. 



IV. 



True and tender, single- souled, 

What should memory do 
Weeping o'er the trust we hold 

True ? 

Known and loved of few, 
But of these, though small their fold, 
Loved how well were you ! 

Change, that makes of new things old, 
Leaves one old thing new ; 

Love which promised truth, and told 
True. 



17 



A Dead Friend. 



v. 



Kind as heaven, while earth's control 

Still had leave to bind 
Thee, thy heart was toward man's whole 

Kind. 

Thee no shadows blind 
Now : the change of hours that roll 
Leaves thy sleep behind. 

Love, that hears thy death-bell toll 

Yet, may call to mind 
Scarce a soul as thy sweet soul 

Kind. 



18 



A Dead Friend. 



VI. 



How should life, O friend, forget 
Death, whose guest art thou ? 

Faith responds to love's regret, 
How ? 

Still, for us that bow 
Sorrowing, still, though life be set, 
Shines thy bright mild brow. 

Yea, though death and thou be met, 

Love may find thee now 
Still, albeit we know not yet 

How. 



19 



A Dead Friend. 



VII. 

Past as music fades, that shone 
While its life might last ; 

As a song-bird's shadow flown 
Past •! 

Death's reverberate blast 
Now for music's lord has blown 
Whom thy love held fast. 

Dead thy king, and void his throne 

Yet for grief at last 
Love makes music of his own 

Past. 




20 



PAST DAYS. 



Dead and gone, the days we had together, 
Shadow-stricken all the lights that shone 
Round them, ilown as flies the blown-foam's feather, 
Dead and gone. 

Where we went, we twain, in time foregone, 
Forth by land and sea, and cared not whether, 
If I go again, I go alone. 

Bound am I with time as with a tether ; 
Thee perchance death leads enfranchised on, 
Far from deathlike life and changeful weather, 
Dead and gone, 



21 



Past Days. 



Above the sea and sea-washed town we dwelt, 
We twain together, two brief summers, free 
From heed of hours as light as clouds that melt 
Above the sea. 

Free from all heed of aught at all were we, 

Save chance of change that clouds or sunbeams dealt 

And gleam of heaven to windward or to lee. 

The Norman downs with bright gray waves for belt 
Were more for us than inland ways might be ; 
A clearer sense of nearer heaven was felt 
Above the sea. 



22 



Past Days. 



in. 



Cliffs and downs and headlands which the forward- 
hasting 
Flight of dawn and eve empurples and embrowns, 
Wings of wild sea-winds and stormy seasons wasting 

Cliffs and downs, 
These, or ever man was, were : the same sky frowns, 
Laughs, and lightens, as before his soul, forecasting 
Times to be, conceived such hopes as time discrowns. 
These we loved of old : but now for me the blasting 
Breath of death makes dull the bright small seaward 

towns, 
Clothes with human change these all but everlasting 
Cliffs and downs. 




23 



AUTUMN AND WINTER. 



Three months bade wane and wax the wintering moon 
Between two dates of death, while men were fain 
Yet of the living light that all too soon 
Three months bade wane. 

Cold autumn, wan with wrath of wind and rain, 
Saw pass a soul sweet as the sovereign tune 
That death smote silent when he smote again. 

First went my friend, in life's mid light of noon, 
Who loved the lord of music : then the strain 
Whence earth was kindled like as heaven in June 
Three months bade wane. 



24 



Autumn and Winter. 



A herald soul before its master's flying 
Touched by some few moons first the darkling goal 
Where shades rose up to greet the shade, espying 
A herald soul ; 

Shades of dead lords of music, who control 

Men living by the might of men undying, 

With strength of strains that make delight of dole. 

The deep dense dust on death's dim threshold lying 
Trembled with sense of kindling sound that stole 
Through darkness, and the night gave ear, descrying 
A herald soul. 



25 



Autumn and Winter. 



m. 



One went before, one after, but so fast 
They seem gone hence together, from the shore 
Whence we now gaze : yet ere the mightier passed 
One went before ; 

One whose whole heart of love, being set of yore 
On that high joy which music lends us, cast 
Light round him forth of music's radiant store. 

Then went, while earth on winter glared aghast, 
The mortal god he worshipped, through the door 
Wherethrough so late, his lover to the last, 
One went before. 



26 



Autumn and Winter. 



IV. 



A star had set an hour before the sun 
Sank from the skies wherethrough his heart's pulse yet 
Thrills audibly : but few took heed-j or none, 
A star had set. 

All heaven rings back, sonorous with regret, 
The deep dirge of the sunset : how should one 
Soft star be missed in all the concourse met ? 

But, O sweet single heart whose work is done, . 
Whose songs are silent, how should I forget 
That ere the sunset's fiery goal was won 
A star had set ? 




27 



THE DEATH OE RICHARD WAGNER. 



Mourning on earth, as when dark hours descend, 
Wide-winged with plagues, from heaven ; when hope 

and mirth 
Wane, and no lips rebuke or reprehend 

Mourning on earth. 

The soul wherein her songs of death and birth, 
Darkness and light, were wont to sound and blend, 
Now silent, leaves the whole world less in worth. 



Winds that make moan and triumph, skies that bend, 

Thunders, and sound of tides in gulf and firth, 

Spake through his spirit of speech, whose death should 

send 

Mourning on earth. 

28 



The Death of Richard Wagner. 



ii. 



The world's great heart, whence all things strange and 

rare 
Take form and sound, that each inseparate part 
May bear its burden in all tuned thoughts that share 

The world's great heart — 

The fountain forces, whence like steeds that start 
Leap forth the powers of earth and fire and air, 
Seas that revolve and rivers that depart — 

Spake, and were turned -to song : yea, all they were> 
With all their works, found in his mastering art 
Speech as of powers whose uttered word laid bare 
The world's great heart.. 



29 



The Death of Richard Wagner. 



in. 



From the depths of the sea, from the wellsprings of 
earth, from the wastes of the midmost night, 

From the fountains of darkness and tempest and thun- 
der, from heights where the soul would be, 

The spell of the mage of music evoked their sense, as 
an unknown light 

From the depths of the sea. 

As a vision of heaven from the hollows of ocean, that 

none but a god might see, 
Rose out of the silence of things unknown of a presence, 

a form, a might, 
And we heard as a prophet that hears God's message 

against him, and may not flee. 

Eye might not endure it, but ear and heart with a 

rapture of dark delight, 
With a terror and wonder whose care was joy, and a 

passion of thought set free, 
Felt inly the rising of doom divine as a sundawn risen 
to sight 

From the depths of the sea. 
3° 



TWO PRELUDES. 



LOHENGRIN. 

Love, out of the depth of things, 
As a dewfall felt from above, 
From the heaven whence only springs 
Love — 

Love, heard from the heights thereof, 
The clouds and the watersprings, 
Draws close as the clouds remove. 

And the soul in it speaks and sings, 
A swan sweet-souled as a dove, 
An echo that only rings 
Love. 



3i 



Two Preludes. 



TRISTAN UND ISOLDE. 

Fate, out of the deep sea's gloom, 
When a man's heart's pride grows great, 
And nought seems now to foredoom 
Fate, 

Fate, laden with fears in wait, 

Draws close through the clouds that loom, 

Till the soul see, all too late, 

More dark than- a dead world's tomb, 
More high than the sheer dawn's gate, 
More deep than the wide sea's womb, 
Fate, 




32 



THE LUTE AND THE LYRE. 

Deep desire, that pierces heart and spirit to the root, 
Finds reluctant voice in verse that yearns like soaring 

fire, 
Takes exultant voice when music holds in high pursuit 
Deep desire. 

Keen as burns the passion of the rose whose buds 

respire, 
Strong as grows the yearning of the blossom toward the 

fruit, 
Sounds the secret half unspoken ere the deep tones tire. 

Slow subsides the rapture that possessed love's flower- 
soft lute, 
Slow the palpitation of the triumph of the lyre ' 
Still the soul feels burn a flame unslaked though these 
be mute, 
Deep desire. 

33 



PLUS INTRA. 

Soul within sense, immeasurable, obscure, 
Insepulchred and deathless, through the dense 
Deep elements may scarce be felt as pure 
Soul within sense. 

From depth and height by measurers left immense, 
Thro' sound and shape and colour, comes the unsure 
Vague utterance, fitful with supreme suspense. 

All that may pass, and all that must endure, 
Song speaks not, painting shews not : more intense 
And keen than these, art wakes with music's lure 
Soul within sense. 



34 



CHANGE. 

But now life's face beholden 

Seemed bright as heaven's bare brow 
With hope of gifts withholden 

But now. 

From time's full-flowering bough 
Each bud spake bloom to embolden 
Love's heart, and seal his vow. 

Joy's eyes grew deep with olden 
Dreams, born he wist not how ; 

Thought's meanest garb was golden ; 
But now ! 



35 



A BABY'S DEATJT. 



A little soul scarce fledged for earth 
Takes wing with heaven again for goal 
Even while* we hailed as fresh from birth 
A little soul. 

Our thoughts ring sad as bells that toll, 
Not knowing beyond this blind world's girth 
What things are writ in heaven's full scroll. 

Our fruitfulness is there but dearth, 
And all things held in time's control 
Seem there, perchance, ill dreams, not worth 
A little soul. 



36 



A Babys Death, 



ii. 



The little feet that never trod 
Earth, never strayed in field or street. 
What hand leads upward back to God 
The little feet ? 

A rose in June's most honied heat, 
When life makes keen the kindling sod, 
Was not so soft and warm and sweet; 

Their pilgrimage's period 
A few swift moons have seen complete 
Since mother's hands first clasped and shod 
The little feet. 



37 



A Babys Death. 



in. 



The little hands that never sought 
Earth's prizes, worthless all as sands, 
What gift has death, God's servant, brought 
The little hands ? 

We ask : but love's self silent stands, 
Love, that lends eyes and wings to thought 
To search where death's dim heaven expands. 

Ere this, perchance, though love know nought, 
Flowers fill them, grown in lovelier lands, 
Where hands of guiding angels caught 
The little hands. 



38 



A Babys Death. 



IV. 



The little eyes that never knew 
Light other than of dawning skies, 
What new life now lights up anew 
The little eyes ? 

Who knows but on their sleep may rise 
Such light as never heaven let through 
To lighten earth from Paradise ? 

No storm, we know, may change the blue 
Soft heaven that haply death descries ; 
No tears, like these in ours, bedew 
The little eyes. 



39 



A Babys Death. 



v. 



Was life so strange, so sad the sky, 

So strait the wide world's range, 
He would not stay to wonder why 

Was life so strange ? 

Was earth's fair house a joyless grange 

Beside that house on high 
Whence Time that bore him failed to estrange ? 

That here at once hi:, soul put by 

All rifts of time and change, 
And left us heavier hearts to sigh 

' Was life so strange ? ' 



40 



A Baby's Death. 



VI. 



Angel by name love called him, seeing so fair 

The sweet small frame ! 
Meet to be called, if ever man's child were, 

Angel by name. 

Rose-bright and warm from heaven's own heart he came, 

And might not bear 
The cloud that covers earth's wan face with shame. 

His little light of life was all too rare 

And soft a flame : 
Heaven yearned for him till angels hailed him there 

Angel by name. 



4i 



A Babys Death, 



VIL 



The song that smiled upon his birthday here 
Weeps on the grave that holds him undented 
Whose loss makes bitterer than a soundless tear 
The song that smiled. 

His name crowned once the mightiest ever styled 
Sovereign of arts, and angel : fate and fear 
Knew then their master, and were reconciled. 

But we saw born beneath some tenderer sphere 
Michael, an angel and a little child, 
Whose loss bows down to weep upon his bier 
The song that smiled. 




42 



ONE OF TWAIN. 



One of twain, twin-born with flowers that waken, 
Now hath passed from sense of sun and rain : 
Wind from off the flower- crowned branch hath shaken 
One of twain. 

One twin flower must pass, and one remain : 
One, the word said soothly, shall be taken, 
And another left : can death refrain ? 

Two years since was love's light song mistaken, 
Blessing then both blossoms, half in vain ? 
Night outspeeding light hath overtaken 
One of twain. 



43 



One of Twain. 



Night and light ? O thou of heart unwary, 
Love, what knowest thou here at all aright, 
Lured, abused, misled as men by fairy 
Night and light ? 

Haply, where thine eyes behold but night, 
Soft as o'er her babe the smile of Mary 
Light breaks flowerwise into new-born sight. 

What though night of light to thee be chary ? 
What though stars of hope like flowers take flight ? 
Seest thou all things here, where all see vary 
Night and light ? 




44 



DEATH AND BIRTH. 

Death and birth should dwell not near together : 
Wealth keeps house not, even for shame, with dearth 
Fate doth ill to link in one brief tether 
Death and birth. 

Harsh the yoke that binds them, strange, the girth 
Seems that girds them each with each : yet whether 
Death be best, who knows, or life on earth ? 

Ill the rose-red and the sable feather 
Blend in one crown's plume, as grief with mirth : 
111 met still are warm and wintry weather, 
Death and birth. 



45 



BIRTH AND DEATH. 

Birth and death, twin-sister and twin-brother, 
Night and day, on all things that draw breath, 
Reign, while time keeps friends with one another 
Birth and death. 

Each brow-bound with flowers diverse of wreath, 
Heaven they hail as father, earth as mother, 
Faithful found above them and beneath. 

Smiles may lighten tears, and tears may smother 
Smiles, for all that joy or sorrow saith : 
Joy nor sorrow knows not from each other 
Birth and death 



4 6 



BENEDICTION. 

Blest in death and life beyond man's guessing 
Little children live and die, possest 
Still of grace that keeps them past expressing 
Blest. 

Each least chirp that rings from every nest, 
Each least touch of flower-soft fingers pressing 
Aught that yearns and trembles to be prest, 

Each least glance, gives gifts of grace, redressing 
Grief's worst wrongs : each mother's nurturing breast 
Feeds a flower of bliss, beyond all blessing 
Blest. 



47 



TUDE REALISTE. 



A baby's feet, like sea-shells pink, 

Might tempt, should heaven see meet, 
An angel's lips to kiss, we th.ii 
A baby's feet. 

Like rose-hued sea-flowers toward the heat 

They stretch and spread and wink 
Their ten soft buds that part and meet. 

No flower-bells that expand and shrink 

Gleam half so heavenly sweet 
As shine on life's untrodden brink 
A baby's feet. 



48 



Etude Realiste. 



A baby's hands, like rosebuds furled, 

Whence yet no leaf expands, 
Ope if you touch, though close upcurled, 

A baby's hands. 

Then, even as warriors grip their brands 

When battle's bolt is hurled, 
They close, clenched hard like tightening bands. 

No rosebuds yet by dawn impearled 

Match, even in loveliest lands, 
The sweetest flowers in all the world — 

A baby's hands. 



49 



Etude Realiste. 



in. 



A baby's eyes, ere speech begin, 

Ere lips learn words or sighs, 
Bless all things bright enough to win 

A baby's eyes. 

Love, while the sweet thing laughs and lies, 

And sleep flows out and in, 
Lies perfect in them Paradise. 

Their glance might cast out pain and sin, 
Their speech make dumb the wise, 

By mute glad godhead felt within 
A baby's eyes. 




5o 



BABYHOOD. 



A baby shines as bright 
If winter or if May be 
On eyes that keep in sight 
A baby. 

Though dark the skies or grey be, 
It fills our eyes with light, 
If midnight or midday be. 

Love hails it, day and night, 
The sweetest thing that may be, 
Yet cannot praise aright 
A baby. 



5i 



Babyhood. 



All heaven, in every baby born, 
All absolute of earthly leaven, 
Reveals itself, tho' man may scorn 
All heaven. 

Yet man might feel all sin forgiven, 
All grief appeased, all pain outworn, 
By this one revelation given. 

Soul, now forgot thy burdens borne :. 
Heart, be thy joys now seven times seven: 
Love shows in light more bright than morn 
All heaven. 



Babyhood. 



in. 



What likeness may define, and stray not 

From truth's exactest way, 
A baby's beauty ? Love can say not 

What likeness may. 

The Mayflower loveliest held in May 

Of all that shine and stay not 
Laughs not in rosier disarray. 

Sleek satin, swansdown, buds that play not 

As yet with winds that play, 
Would fain be matched with this, and may not 

What likeness may ? 



53 



Babyhood, 






Rose, round whose bed 
Dawn's cloudlets close 
Earth's brightest-bred 
Rose! 

No song, love knows, 
May praise the head 
Your curtain shows. 

Ere sleep has fled, 
The whole child glows 
One sweet live red 
Rose. 




54 



FIRST FOOTSTEPS. 

A little way, more soft and sweet 
Than fields aflower with May, 

A babe's feet, venturing, scarce complete 
A little way. 

Eyes full of dawning day 
Look up for mother's eyes to meet, 
Too blithe for song to say. 

Glad as the golden spring to greet 

Its first live leaflet's play, 
Love, laughing, leads the little feet 

A little way. 



55 



A NINTH BIRTHDAY. 



February 4, 1883. 



Three times thrice hath winter's rough white wing 
Crossed and curdled wells and streams with ice 
Since his birth whose praises love would sing 
Three times thrice. 

Earth nor sea bears flower nor pearl of price 
Fit to crown the forehead of my king, 
Honey meet to please him, balm, nor spice. 

Love can think of nought but love to bring 
Fit to serve or do him sacrifice 
Ere his eyes have looked upon the spring 
Three times thrice. 



56 



A Ninth Birthday. 



Three times thrice the world has fallen on slumber, 
Shone and waned and withered in a trice, 
Frost has fettered Thames and Tyne and Humber 
Three times thrice, 

Fogs have swoln too thick for steel to slice, 
Cloud and mud have soiled with grime and umber 
Earth and heaven, defaced as souls with vice, 

Winds have risen to wreck, snows fallen to cumber, 
Ships and chariots, trapped like rats or mice, 
Since my king first smiled, whose years now number 
Three times thrice. 



57 



A Ninth Birthday. 



in. 



Three times thrice, in wine of song full-flowing, 
Pledge, my heart, the child whose eyes suffice, 
Once beheld, to set thy joy-bells going 
Three times thrice. 

Not the lands of palm and date and rice 

Glow more bright when summer leaves them glowing, 

Laugh more light when suns and winds entice. 

Noon and eve and midnight and cock-crowing, 
Child whose love makes life as paradise, 
Love should sound your praise with clarions blowing 
Three times thrice. 




58 




NOT A child: 



Not a child : 1 call myself a boy,' 
Says my king, with accent stern yet mild, 
Now nine years have brought him change of joy ; 
'Not a child.' 

How could reason be so far beguiled, 
Err so far from sense's safe employ, 
Stray so wide of truth, or run so wild ? 

Seeing his face bent over book or toy, 
Child I called him, smiling : but he smiled 
Back, as one too high for vain annoy — 
Not a child. 



59 



/ 



Not a Child. 



ii. 

Not a child ? alack the year ! 
What should ail an undented 
Heart, that he would fain appear 
Not a child ? 

Men, with years and memories piled 
Each on other, far and near, 
Fain again would so be styled : 

Fain would cast off hope and fear, 
Rest, forget, be reconciled : 
Why would you so fain be, dear, 
Not a child ? 



60 



Not a Child, 



in. 



Child or boy, my darling, which you will, 
Still your praise finds heart and song employ, 
Heart and song both yearning toward you still, 
Child or boy. 

All joys else might sooner pall or cloy 
Love than this which inly takes its fill, 
Dear, of sight of your more perfect joy. 

Nay, be aught you please, let all fulfil 
All ycur pleasure ; be your world your toy : 
Mild or wild we love you, loud or still, 
Child or boy. 




61 



TO DORA DORIAN. 

Child of two strong nations, heir 
Born of high-souled hope that smiled 
Seeing for each brought forth a fair 
Child, 

By thy gracious brows, and wild 
Golden-clouded heaven of hair, 
By thine eyes elate and mild, 

Hope would fain take heart to swear 
Men should yet be reconciled, 
Seeing the sign she bids thee bear, 
Child. 



62 



THE ROUNDEL. 

A roundel is wrought as a ring or a starb right sphere, 
With craft of delight and with cunning of sound un- 
sought, 
That the heart of the hearer may smile if to pleasure 
his ear 

A roundel is wrought. 

Its jewel of music is carven of all or of aught — 

Love, laughter, or mourning — remembrance of rapture 

or fear — 
That fancy may fashion to hang in the ear of thought. 

As a bird's quick song runs round, and the hearts in us 

hear 
Pause answer to pause, and again the same strain caught, 
So moves the device whence, round as a pearl or tear, 
A roundel is wrought. 
6i 



AT SEA. 

i Farewell and adieu ' was the burden prevailing 
Long since in the chant of a home-faring crew ; 
And the heart in us echoes, with laughing or wailing, 
Farewell and adieu. 

Each year that we live shall we sing it anew, 
With a water untravelled before us for sailing 
And a water behind us that wrecks may bestrew. 

The stars of the past and the beacons are paling, • 
The heavens and the waters are hoarier of hue ; 
But the heart in us chants not an all unavailing 
Farewell and adieu. 



64 



WASTED LOVE. 

What shall be done for sorrow 
With love whose race is run ? 

Where help is none to borrow, 
What shall be done ? 

In vain his hands have spun 

The web, or drawn the furrow 
No rest their toil hath won. 

His task is all gone thorough, 
And fruit thereof is none : 

And who dare say to-morrow 
What shall be done ? 



65 




, BEFORE SUNSET. 

Love's twilight wanes in heaven above, 
On earth ere twilight reigns : 

Ere fear may feel the chill thereof, 
Love's twilight wanes. 

Ere yet the insatiate heart complains 

'Too much, and scarce enough,' 
The lip so late athirst refrains. 

Soft on the neck of either dove 
Love's hands let slip the reins : 

And while we look for light of love 
Love's twilight wanes. 



66 



A SINGING IESSON. 

Far-fetched and dear-bought, as the proverb re- 
hearses, 
Is good, or was held so, for ladies : but nought 
In a song can be good if the turn of the verse is 
Far-fetched and dear-bought. 

As the turn of a wave should it sound, and the thought 
Ring smooth, and as light as the spray that disperses 
Be the gleam of the words for the garb thereof wrought. 

Let the soul in it shine through the sound as it pierces 
Men's hearts with possession of music unsought. 
For the bounties of song are no jealous god's mercies, 
Far-fetched and dear-bought. 



6 7 




FLO WER-PIECES. 



LOVE LIES BLEEDING. 



Love lies bleeding in the bed whereover 
Roses lean with smiling mouths or pleading : 
Earth lies laughing where the sun's dart clove her 
Love lies bleeding. 

Stately shine his purple plumes, exceeding 
Pride of princess : nor shall maid or lover 
Find on earth a fairer sign worth heeding. 

Yet may love, sore wounded, scarce recover 
Strength and spirit again,- with life receding : 
Hope and joy, wind-winged, about him hover : 
Love lies bleeding. 



6$ 



Flower-Pieces. 



ii. 



lovp: in a mist. 



Light love in a mist, by the midsummer moon mis- 
guided, 
Scarce seen in the twilight garden if gloom insist, 
Seems vainly to seek for a star whose gleam has derided 
Light love in a mist. 

All day in the sun, when the breezes do all they list, 
His soft blue raiment of cloudlike blossom abided 
Unrent and unwithered of winds and of rays that kissed. 

Blithe-hearted or sad, as the cloud or the sun subsided, 
Love smiled in the flower with a meaning whereof none 

wist 
Save two that beheld, as a gleam that before them glided, 
Light love in a mist. 



6 9 



THREE EACES. 



VENTIMIGLIA. 



The sky and sea glared hard and bright and blank : 
Down the one steep street, with slow steps firm and free 
A tall girl paced, with eyes too proud to thank 
The sky and sea. 

One dead flat sapphire, void of wrath or glee, 
Through bay on bay shone blind from bank to bank 
The weary Mediterranean, drear to see. 

More deep, more living, shone her eyes that drank 
The breathless light and shed again on me, 
Till pale before their splendour waned and shrank 
The sky and sea. 



70 



Three Faces. 



ii. 



GENOA. 



Again the same strange might of eyes, that saw 
In heaven and earth nought fairer, overcame 
My sight with rapture of reiterate awe, 
Again the same. 

The self-same pulse of wonder shook like flame 
The spirit of sense within me : what strange law 
Had bid this be, for blessing or for blame ? 

To what veiled end that fate or chance foresaw 
Came forth this second sister face, that came 
Absolute, perfect, fair without a flaw, 
Again the same ? 



7i 



Three Faces. 



in. 



VENICE. 



Out of the dark pure twilight, where the stream 
Flows glimmering, streaked by many a birdlike bark 
That skims the gloom whence towers and bridges gleam 
Out of the dark, 

Once more a face no glance might choose but mark 
Shone pale and bright, with eyes whose deep slow beam 
Made quick the twilight, lifeless else and stark. 

The same it seemed, or mystery made it seem, 
As those before beholden ; but St. Mark 
Ruled here the ways that showed it like a dream 
Out of the dark. 



72 



EROS. 



Eros, from rest in isles far-famed, 
With rising Anthesterion rose, 
And all Hellenic heights acclaimed 
Eros. 

The sea one pearl, the shore one rose, 
All round him all the flower-month flamed 
And lightened, laughing off repose. 

Earth's heart, sublime and unashamed, 
Knew, even perchance as man's heart knows, 
The thirst of all men's nature named 
Eros. 



73 



Eros. 



Eros, a fire of heart untamed, 
A light of spirit in sense that glows, 
Flamed heavenward still ere earth defamed 
Eros. 

Nor fear nor shame durst curb or close 
His golden godhead, marred and maimed, 
Fast round with bonds that burnt and froze. 

Ere evil faith struck blind and lamed 
Love, pure as fire or flowers or snows, 
Earth hailed as blameless and unblamed 
Eros. 



74 



Eros. 



m. 



Eros, with shafts by thousands aimed 
At laughing lovers round in rows, 
Fades from their sight whose tongues proclaimed 
Eros. 

But higher than transient shapes or shows 

The light of love in life inflamed 

Springs, toward no goal that these disclose. 

Above those heavens which passion claimed 
Shines, veiled by change that ebbs and flows, 
The soul in all things born or framed, 
Eros. 






75 



SORROW. 

Sorrow, on wing through the world for ever, 
Here and there for awhile would borrow 
Rest, if rest might haply deliver 
Sorrow. 

One thought lies close in her heart gnawn through 
With pain, a weed in a dried-up river, 
A rust-red share in an empty furrow. 

Hearts that strain at her chain would sever 
The link where yesterday frets to-morrow ! 
All things pass in the world, but never 
Sorrow. 



76 



1 



' 



SLEEP. 

Sleep, when a soul that her own clouds cover 
Wails that sorrow should always keep 
Watch, nor see in the gloom above her 
Sleep, 

Down, through darkness naked and steep, 
Sinks, and the wings of his comforts cover 
Close the soul, though her wound be deep. 

God beloved of us, all men's lover, 
All most weary that smile or weep 
Feel thee afar or anear them hover, 
Sleep. 



77 



ON AN OLD ROUNDEL. 



Translated by D. G. Rossetti from the French of Villon. 



Death, from thy rigour a voice appealed, 
And men still hear what the sweet cry saith, 
Crying aloud in thine ears fast sealed, 
Death. 

As a voice in a vision that vanisheth, 

Through the grave's gate barred and the portal steeled 

The sound of the wail of it travelleth. 

Wailing aloud from a heart unhealed, 
It woke response of melodious breath 
From lips now too by thy kiss congealed, 
Death. 



78 



On an Old Roundel. 



ii. 



Ages ago, from the lips of a sad glad poet 
Whose soul was a wild dove lost in the whirling snow, 
The soft keen plaint of his pain took voice to show it 
Ages ago. 

So clear, so deep, the divine drear accents flow, 

No soul that listens may choose but thrill to know it, 

Pierced and wrung by the passionate music's throe. 

For us there murmurs a nearer voice below it, 
Known once of ears that never again shall know 
Now mute as the mouth which felt death's wave 
o'erflow it 

Ages ago. 



79 



A LANDSCAPE BY COURBET. 

Low lies the mere beneath the moorside, still 
And glad of silence : down the wood sweeps clear 
To the soft verge where fed with many a rill 
Low lies the mere. 

The wind speaks only summer : eye nor ear 
Sees aught at all of dark, hears aught of shrill, 
From sound or shadow felt or fancied here. 

Strange, as we praise the dead man's might and skill, 
Strange that harsh thoughts should make such heavy 

cheer, 
While, clothed with peace by heaven's most gentle will, 

Low lies the mere. 



80 



A FLOWER-PIECE BY FAN TIN. 

Heart's ease or pansy, pleasure or thought, 
Which would the picture give us of these ? 
Surely the heart that conceived it sought 
Heart's ease. 

Surely by glad and divine degrees 

The heart impelling the hand that wrought 

Wrought comfort here for a soul's disease. 

Deep flowers, with lustre and darkness fraught, 
From glass that gleams as the chill still seas 
Lean and lend for a heart distraught 
Heart's ease. 




81 



A NIGHT-PIECE BY MILLET. 

Wind and sea and cloud and cloud-forsaking 
Mirth of moonlight where the storm leaves free 
Heaven awhile, for all the wrath of waking 
Wind and sea. 

Bright with glad mad rapture, fierce with glee, 
Laughs the moon, borne on past cloud's o'ertaking 
Fast, it seems, as wind or sail can flee. 

One blown sail beneath her, hardly making 
Forth, wild-winged for harbourage yet to be 
Strives and leaps and pants beneath the breaking 
Wind and sea. 



82 



1 



' MARZO PAZZO: 

Mad March, with the wind in his wings wide-spread, 
Leaps from heaven, and the deep dawn's arch 
Hails re-risen again from the dead 
Mad March. 

Soft small flames on rowan and larch 
Break forth as laughter on lips that said 
Naught till the pulse in them beat love's march. 

But the heartbeat now in the lips rose-red 
Speaks life to the world, and the winds that parch 
Bring April forth as a bride to wed 
Mad March. 




DEAD LOVE. 

Dead love, by treason slain, lies stark, 
White as a dead stark-stricken dove : 
None that pass by him pause to mark 
Dead love. 

His heart, that strained and yearned and strove 
As toward the sundawn strives the lark, 
Is cold as all the old joy thereof. 



Dead men, re-risen irom dust, may hark 
When rings the trumpet blown above : 
It will not raise from out the dark 
Dead love. 



DISCORD. 

Unreconciled by life's fleet years, that fled 
With changeful clang of pinions wide and wild, 
Though two great spirits had lived, and hence had sped 
Unreconciled ; 

Though time and change, harsh time's imperious child, 
That wed strange hands together, might not wed 
High hearts by hope's misprision once beguiled ; 

Faith, by the light from either's memory shed, 
Sees, radiant as their ends were undef]led, 
One goal for each — not twain among the dead 
Unreconciled. 




85 



CONCORD. 

Reconciled by death's mild hand, that giving 
Peace gives wisdom, not more strong than mild, 
Love beholds them, each without misgiving 
Reconciled. 

Each on earth alike of earth reviled, 
Hated, feared, derided, and forgiving, 
Each alike had heaven at heart, and smiled. 

Both bright names, clothed round with man's thanks- 
giving ; 
Shine, twin stars above the storm-drifts piled, 
Dead and deathless, whom we saw not living 
Reconciled. 




86 



I \ 



I 



MOURNING. 

Alas my brother ! the cry of the mourners of old 

That cried on each other, 
All crying aloud on the dead as the death-note rolled, 

Alas my brother ! 

As flashes of dawn that mists from an east wind smother 

With fold upon fold, 
The past years gleam that linked us one with another. 

Time sunders hearts as of brethren whose eyes behold 

No more their mother : 
But a cry sounds yet from the shrine whose fires wax 
cold, 

Alas my brother ! 



«7 



APEROTOS EROS. 

Strong as death, and cruel as the grave, 
Clothed with cloud and tempest's blackening breath, 
Known of death's dread self, whom none outbrave, 
Strong as death, 

Love, brow-bound with anguish for a wreath, 
Fierce with pain, a tyrant-hearted slave, 
Burns above a world that groans beneath. 

Hath not pity power on thee to save, 
Love ? hath power no pity ? Nought he saith, 
Answering : blind he walks as wind pr wave, 
Strong as death. 




TO CATULLUS. 

My brother, my Valerius, dearest head 
Of all whose crowning bay-leaves crown their mother, 
Rome, in the notes first heard of thine I read 
My brother. 

No dust that death or time can strew may smother 
Love and the sense of kinship inly bred 
From loves and hates at one with one another. 

To thee was Caesar's self nor dear nor dread-, 
Song and the sea were sweeter each than other : 
How should I living fear to call thee dead 
My brother? 



8 9 




' INSULAR UM O CELLED 

Sark, fairer than aught in the world than the lit skies 

cover, 
Laughs inly behind her cliffs, and the seafarers mark 
As a shrine where the sunlight serves, though the blown 

clouds hover, 
Sark. 

We mourn, for love of a song that outsang the lark, 
That nought so lovely beholden of Sirmio's lover 
Made glad in Propontis the flight of his Pontic bark. 

Here earth lies lordly, triumphal as heaven is above her, 
And splendid and strange as the sea that upbears as an 

ark, 
As a sign for the rapture of storm-spent eyes to discover, 
Sark. 



90 



IN SARK. 

Abreast and ahead of the sea is a crag's front cloven 

asunder 
With strong sea-breach and with wasting of winds 

whence terror is shed 
As a shadow of death from the wings of the darkness 

on waters that thunder 
Abreast and ahead. 

At its edge is a sepulchre hollowed and hewn for a lone 

man's bed, 
Propped open with rock and agape on the sky and the 

sea thereunder, 
But roofed and walled in well from the wrath of them 

slept its dead. 



91 



In Sark. 



Here might not a man drink rapture of rest, or delight 

above wonder, 
Beholding, a soul disembodied, the days and the nights 

that fled, 
With splendour and sound of the tempest around and 

above him and under, 
Abreast and ahead ? 




92 



IN GUERNSEY. 



The heavenly bay, ringed round with cliffs and moors, 
Storm-stained ravines, and crags that lawns inlay, 
Soothes as with love the rocks whose guard secures 
The heavenly bay. 

O friend, shall time take ever this away, 
This blessing given of beauty that endures, 
This glory shown us, not to pass but stay ? 

Though sight be changed for memory, love ensures 
What memory, changed by love to sight, would say — - 
The word that seals for ever mine and yours 
The heavenly bay. 



93 



In Guernsey, 



ii. 



My mother sea, my fostress, what new strand, 
What new delight of waters, may this be, 
The fairest found since time's first breezes fanned 
My mother sea ? 

Once more I give me body and soul to thee, 
Who hast my soul for ever : cliff and sand 
Recede, and heart to heart once more are we. 

My heart springs first and plunges, ere my hand 
Strike out from shore : more close it brings to me, 
More near and dear than seems my fatherland, 
My mother sea. 



94 



In Guernsey. 



in. 



Across and along, as the bay's breadth opens, and o'er 

us 
Wild autumn exults in the wind, swift rapture and strong 
Impels us, and broader the wide waves brighten before 

us 

Across and along. 

The whole world's heart is uplifted, and knows not 

wrong ; 
The whole world's life is e chant to the sea-tide's chorus ; 
Are we not as waves of the water, as notes of the song ? 

Like children unworn of the passions and toils that 

wore us, 
We breast for a season the breadth of the seas that 

throng, 
Rejoicing as they, to be borne as of old they bore us 
Across and along. 



95 



In Guernsey. 



IV. 



On Dante's track by some funereal spell 
Drawn down through desperate ways that lead not back 
We seem to move, bound forth past flood and fell 
On Dante's track. 

The grey path ends : the gaunt rocks gape : the black 
Deep hollow tortuous night, a soundless shell, 
Glares darkness : are the fires of old grown slack ? 

Nay, then, what flames are these that leap and swell 
As 'twere to show, where earth's foundations crack, 
The secrets of the sepulchres of hell 
On Dante's track ? 



96 



In Guernsey. 



v. 



By mere men's hands the flame was lit, we know, 
From heaps of dry waste whin and casual brands : 
Yet, knowing, we scarce believe it kindled so 
By mere men's hands. 

Above, around, high-vaulted hell expands, 

Steep, dense, a labyrinth walled and roofed with woe 

Whose mysteries even itself not understands. 

The scorn in Farinata's eyes aglow 
Seems visible in this flame : there Geryon stands : 
No stage of earth's is here, set forth to show 
By mere men's hands. 



97 



In Guernsey. 



VI. 



Night, in utmost noon forlorn and strong, with heart 

athirst and fasting, 
Hungers here, barred up for ever, whence as one whom 

dreams affright 
Day recoils before the low-browed lintel threatening 

doom and casting 
Night. 

All the reefs and islands, all the lawns and highlands, 

clothed with light, 
Laugh for love's sake in their sleep outside : but here 

the night speaks, blasting 
Day with silent speech and scorn of all things known 

from depth to height. 

Lower than dive the thoughts of spirit-stricken fear in 

souls forecasting 
Hell, the deep void seems to yawn beyond fear's reach, 

and higher than sight 
Rise the walls and roofs that compass it about with 
everlasting 
Night. 

9 8 



In Guernsey, 



VII. 



The house accurst, with cursing sealed and signed, 
Heeds not what storms about it burn and burst : 
No fear more fearful than its own may find 
The house accurst. 

Barren as crime, anhungered and athirst, 

Blank miles of moor sweep inland, sere and blind, 

Where summer's best rebukes not winter's worst. 

The low bleak tower with nought save wastes behind 
Stares down the abyss whereon chance reared and nursed 
This type and likeness of the accurst man's mind, 
The house accurst. 



99 



In Guernsey, 



VIII. 



Beloved and blest, lit warm with love and fame, 
The house that had the light of the earth for guest 
Hears for his name's sake all men hail its name 
Beloved and blest. 

This eyrie was the homeless eagle's nest 

When storm laid waste his eyrie : hence he came 

Again when storm smote sore his mother's breast. 

Bow down men bade us, or be clothed with blame 
And mocked for madness : worst, they sware, was best 
But grief shone here, while joy was one with shame, 
Beloved and blest. 



ioo 



a 



ENVOI. 



Fly, white butterflies, out to sea, 
Frail pale wings for the winds to try, 
Small white wings that we scarce can see, 

Fly. 

Here and there may a chance-caught eye 
Note in a score of you twain or three 
Brighter or darker of mould or dye. 

Some fly light as a laugh of glee, 
Some fly soft as a low long sigh : 
All to the haven where each would be, 
Fly. 



io] 




LOVE AND SCORN. 

Love, loyalest and lordliest born of things, 

Immortal that shouldst be, though all else end, 
In plighted hearts of fearless friend with friend, 

Whose hand may curb or clip thy plume-plucked wings ? 

Not Grief's nor Time's : though these be lords and kings 
Crowned, and their yoke bid vassal passions bend, 
They may not pierce the spirit of sense, or blend 

Quick poison with the soul's live watersprings. 

The true clear heart whose core is manful trust 

Fears not that very death may turn to dust 
Love lit therein as toward a brother born, 

If one touch make not all its fine gold rust, 
If one breath blight not all its glad ripe corn, 
And all its fire be turned to fire of scorn. 

Scorn only, scorn begot of bitter proof 
By keen experience of a trustless heart, 
Bears burning in her new-born hand the dart 

Wherewith love dies heart-stricken, and the roof 
102 




Love and Scorn. 

Falls of his palace, and the storied woof 

Long woven of many a year with life's whole art 

Is rent like any rotten weed apart, 
And hardly with reluctant eyes aloof 
Cold memory guards one relic scarce exempt 
Yet from the fierce corrosion of contempt, 

And hardly saved by pity. Woe are we 
That once we loved, and love not ; but we know 
The ghost of love, surviving yet in show, 

Where scorn has passed, is vain as grief must be. 

O sacred, just, inevitable scorn, 

Strong child of righteous judgment, whom with grief 
The rent heart bears, and wins not yet relief, 

Seeing of its pain so dire a portent born, 

Must thou not spare one sheaf of all the corn, 
One doit of all the treasure ? not one sheaf, 
Not one poor doit of all ? not one dead leaf 

Of all that fell and left behind a thorn ? 

Is man so strong that one should scorn another ? 

Is any as God, not made of mortal mother, 

That love should turn in him to gall and flame ? 

Nay : but the true is not the false heart's brother : 
Love cannot love disloyalty : the name 
That else it wears is love no more, but shame. 
103 



ON THE MONUMENT ERECTED TO 
MAZZINI AT GENOA. 

Italia, mother of the souls of men, 

Mother divine, 
Of all that served thee best with sword or pen, 

All sons of thine, 

Thou knowest that here the likeness of the best 

Before thee stands : 
The head most high, the heart found faithfulest, 

The purest hands. 

Above the fume and foam of time that flits, 

The soul, we know, 
Now sits on high where Alighieri sits 

With Angelo. 

Not his own heavenly tongue hath heavenly speech 

Enough to say 
What this man was, whose praise no thought may reach, 

No words can weigh. 
104 



On the Monument Erected to Mazzini. 

Since man's first mother brought to mortal birth 

Her first-born son 
Such grace befell not ever man on earth 

As crowns this One. 

Of God nor man was ever this thing said : 

That he could give 
Life back to her who gave him, that his dead 

Mother might live. 

But this man found his mother dead and slain, 

With fast sealed eyes, 
And bade the dead rise up and live again, 

And she did rise : 

And all the world was bright with her through him : 

But dark with strife, 
Like heaven's own sun that storming clouds bedim, 

Was all his life. 

Life and the clouds are vanished ; hate and fear 

Have had their span 
Of time to hurt and are not : He is here 

The sunlike man. 
105 



On the Monument Erected to Mazzini. 

City superb, that hadst Columbus first 

For sovereign son, 
Be prouder that thy breast hath later nurst 

This mightier One. 

Glory be his forever, while this land 

Lives and is free. 
As with controlling breath and sovereign hand 

He bade her be. 

Earth shows to heaven the names by thousands told 

That crown her fame : 
But highest of all that heaven and earth behold 

Mazzini's name. 




106 



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